


strumming heart

by SalazarTipton



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Disabled Character, Coffee, Guitars, M/M, Morning After, Nostalgia, Scars
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-26
Updated: 2019-01-26
Packaged: 2019-10-17 07:52:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17556329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SalazarTipton/pseuds/SalazarTipton
Summary: waking up the morning after the reunion, michael jolts awake when the strumming of his old guitar comes from the table. the events of last night quickly come back to him.





	strumming heart

Michael shifts in his bed, pulling his sheets closer to his chest. He can’t remember anything from his dream aside from a comfortable, hazy happiness that he really wants to get back to. One leg stretches out to the other side of the bed as he starfishes over the mattress. Behind him, an off-key chord hums through the air and his eyes shoot wide open despite the sunrise peering through his blinds onto his face. He takes a deep inhale and lets the events of last night wash over him: the reunion, the kiss, heading back here...

“Did the Air Force beat the beauty of sleeping in out of you or something?” Michael asks more into the pillow than he means to. Holding his head up right now would be conceding defeat to waking up and right now he’s too warm and comfortable to do any such thing.

Alex huffs out a short laugh. “It’s almost nine.”

“Exactly.”

“When was the last time you tuned this, anyway?” Alex asks without expecting any real kind of answer. His eyes flick from the guitar over to the bed, catching a glimpse of Michael’s ass before the man shifts and sits up to look at him.

Michael lets out a dry laugh. “Honestly, I’m pretty sure you were the last person to tune that thing.”

Alex blinks at him. Back in high school, open mic nights consisted of two constants, for him: Michael and Maria. Music was the thing that got Alex’s attention first for him (right after his looks, he admits). They used to drive out into the canyon on clear nights in Michael’s rusted-out truck, lay back in the bed looking up at the stars as they played together. It was the binding agent to their...well, whatever it was they had back then. He can’t think of what would keep him from playing. He opens his mouth to ask, but stops himself when Michael holds up his left hand, the back of it facing Alex.

Last night, Alex had been focused on other parts of Michael’s body and hadn’t seen the burn scars fitting over his hand like some marled glove. He drops it before Alex can examine it too closely.

“Just doesn’t work the same. For some reason, I think you know the feeling.”

“How did it--” Alex trails off, stopping himself when he realizes that he might not have any right to ask. Michael hasn’t pressed him about his leg and last night didn’t treat him any differently for it.

“If you wanna do the catch up, talk about our lives and feelings thing can we at least wait until I make the coffee?”

Alex sighs, relenting. He tries to focus on tuning the guitar instead of watching the sheet fall off of Michael’s body as he stands--leaving him bare and tantalizing. In the glimpses he alots himself after Michael tugs on a pair of boxers, Alex now sees that his hand it’s the only part of his body that has those scars. He can make out the lines where the flames had licked up his left arm and shoulder.

How long after Alex left had he gotten those? He can’t help, but let his mind wander towards all the possibilities as his fingers strum against the strings with a light touch. The strings don’t feel like they’ve been stagnant for a decade. If anything, they feel pretty damn near new under the pads of his fingers as they slide along the frets.

“You want some?” Alex shakes himself of his thoughts and turns to Michael.

He’s standing by the sink, coffee pot in hand with two mugs in front of him. One from the Crashdown and the other from the Sheriff's department (probably stolen from Max’s desk or something).

“Uh, sure. Black’s fine.”

Michael goes about pouring the coffee and let’s the tension that filled him when he showed his hand drip away. He knows that Alex won’t judge him or push him away because he’s a little scarred, but the sting of people’s looks when they notice never really leave him. He’s been working around the little tremors and flare ups of pain on top of the daily ache for a decade now. Sometimes he forgets there was ever a time he didn’t deal with this. He swallows down the lump in his throat.

The notes floating through the air change from scattered, unconnected sound into something warm and familiar. When he turns around to give Alex his coffee, he’s smiling. The song is halfway finished and Alex looks up to smile at him too. It’s what was playing the night of senior prom when they snuck out of the gym to the eraser room down the hall. He can’t believe he remembers it.

Michael turns back to his coffee, grabbing what looks like an unlabeled flavor shot bottle from some bougie cafe off the counter and puts a few pumps in his mug. Alex wants to ask what the hell Michael Guerin, the hardass cowboy himself, is doing putting hazelnut or something in his coffee, but the comment melts on his tongue at the sight of him leaning against the counter with one hip, holding his mug with both hands as he blows on it with his eyes shut. His curls are a frizzy mess from Alex’s hands throughout their night together and sleep. The waistband of his boxers is askew on his hips, giving Alex a peek of the V disappearing below the hem.

He only notices he’s stopped playing while watching Michael when his eyes snap open, meeting Alex’s with a smirk growing over his lips. He raises an eyebrow at him, pulling in a sip of his coffee.

**Author's Note:**

> please let me know what you think! i love these two and really can't get enough of them. kudos and comments keep me going <3  
> come find me on [tumblr](http://bialiencowboy.tumblr.com/)


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